


Under Grey Skies

by Blackberreh



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Magic, Necromancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-03 18:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberreh/pseuds/Blackberreh
Summary: Necromancy is one of those schools of magic that shouldn't be taken lightly. Tobirama learned that the hard way a long, long time ago, and now lives with the consequences.Madara finds him interesting. Hashirama just wants Madara to behave. Tobirama could say the same to Hashirama.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow thats a weird summary but I am tired and in pain so oh well.
> 
> But anyway!!! I've been kinda planning this AU for a long while now and finally got my but into gear and started writing it lol. I've done some art for it too so if you wanna see the designs I have for Madara and Tobirama then go check it out!

 

There was no clear line that showed where the border of Fire Country ended and Ice Country began. But as Madara came to a stop where lush grass began wither and die, coated with particles of frost, he thought - if there was one, this would be it.

He truly did not want to go any further, but at this point, he didn't see that he had any other choice.

Somewhere, in that land of snow and ice, Hashirama disappeared. And Madara was the only one who could find him.

Madara pursed his lips and pulled his cloak tighter around his body, prodding his inner fire to warm him. If he was cold already, then he dreaded to think of what actually being in the snow would feel like.

Why did Hashirama have to go and disappear? A commune with nature his ass, the idiot had probably gone and died in a snowy ditch somewhere and Madara was probably going to have to drag his frozen corpse back home. Not only did Hashirama have obligations that he was very much _abandoning_ , but Madara had obligations that he was being forced to ignore as well - just so he could bring the oaf home! It was ridiculous! The Headmaster just can’t up and leave their school without any prior notice beyond a ‘be right back’ letter!

It’s been almost _two months_. And Madara, being the only one who was his friend outside of work, was ganged up on by the rest of the staff to track him down.

(It doesn’t matter that Madara would have grown too worried in his own right and gone without needing to be begged, but that wasn’t the point.)

Before he continued on, Madara pulled out a small golden pocket watch, and checked it with narrowed eyes. The hands were pointing directly south - Hashirama apparently hadn’t moved at all, which was good, but also worrying.

With a sigh, Madara slipped the watch back into his pocket, tugged his fluffy cloak tighter around himself, and marched onwards with a grim sort of determination that was more befitting of a battlefield than a retrieval errand.

 

* * *

 

 

Of all the places for the tracking spell to lead him, he would never have thought it was a _castle_. Of all things.

It certainly looked to have seen better days. In disrepair for the most part, towers and turrets half crumbled, covered in ice and snow, it looked a little like a death trap and Madara definitely did not wish to risk stepping inside and having it fall down around him. But the tracking spell was pointing towards it, the watch growing warm in his hand as proof that Hashirama was close by, and with a sigh Madara steeled himself and picked his way through the snow to the large, rotten wood doors.

It took an… effort to push it open. Madara would have used magic if he didn’t fear blasting it open would shake the foundations and dislodge a rock or something which, knowing his luck, would result in him dying. If he died here he was most definitely going to haunt Hashirama and drive him to an early grave as well.

The door opened with a low groan that rattled Madara’s bones, and he peeked his head inside and carefully looked around. Surprisingly, despite the castle’s crumbling exterior, the inside hall looked fully intact. There was no snow, no loose pieces of stone… still very, very cold though.

Huh.

Madara slipped in and pushed the door closed as gently as possible, and looked around with wary eyes as he made his way through the entrance hall. The signs of age were very obvious now that his eyes fully adjusted to the dim lighting - old paintings that were covered in dust and grime, a tapestry on the far wall that was in tatters. There was what was once possibly a plush rug that lead to another door that was now mostly decayed, and after a moment of hesitation, Madara followed it. Ensuing rooms looked pretty much the same as the first, bare of furnishing, intact, but dusty and cold, and it was only as Madara stepped into what could only be a ballroom of some sort that he began to actually wonder - just what was this place? What happened here?

There was a twin curving staircase at the far side of the room, and the pocket watch was growing warmer, so Madara steeled himself and started up one of them.

As the pocket watch grew warmer, it was like the air around them grew colder - and Madara was becoming very, _very_ tired of this cold.

The stairs led to a small platform and a set of large double doors. He couldn’t hear anything as he crept closer, but he discovered the doors were open ever so slightly. A cautious peek through the gap revealed an empty room, and Madara released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and pushed the door open fully.

It was a throne room. Probably what was once a very majestic one at that - pillars lined the path to the crumbling throne, tapestries hung in tatters from the walls, there was a balcony that lined the whole room high up by what were probably once beautiful stained glass windows. Madara held his breath as he walked down the lined path to the throne, and the pocket watch grew warmer and warmer - and he saw it as he stepped around the crumbled throne.

There was a single door behind it. A door where warm light flickered from behind. And Madara could hear voices.

Madara took a single step closer, and the voices fell silent.

The pocket watch in his hand grew as cold as ice, and the door exploded outwards.

Madara barely had time to react, his skin heating up with his inner fire, called up with a single thought as something dark and terrifying loomed above him.

Red irises set on black sclera held Madara frozen, and a clawed hand reached out to grip his face, sharp tips digging into his cheeks as it jerked his head up. Lips pulled back into a snarl, showing black gums and sharp teeth, and the thing snarled, “You don’t belong here, little mage. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The hand squeezed tighter and a pervading cold invaded Madara’s body. It caused him to freeze up and his stomach to turn at the biting chill that began to set into his very bones, so overwhelming and _dark,_ it took much too long for Madara’s instincts to kick in. A flash of fire and those bone-like claws slipped through flesh as his body broke up into pure flame, and Madara leapt back with a burst of magic to create some distance between them, breathing heavily.

He was before the throne now, forcing his breathing to slow and keep himself centred, and the creature stepped around to stand beside it, a clawed hand resting on the stone.

It… looked like it belonged, dressed as it was. Dark armour, a crown made of twisted metal and a thick pale cloak with fur trim draped over its large frame.

Madara couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling that the throne… belonged to it.

The… the _thing_ that had grabbed him remained still, observing him with those inhuman eyes. At the very least, it was human in appearance - deathly white skin and hair like snow, the only colour it bore was the crimson of its eyes and the red lining them, matching the slashes on its cheeks and chin. There was a sort of deadly beauty about it that Madara couldn’t help but focus on, and he pressed his lips into a thin line and readied his magic to defend.

He’d only felt a touch of it - when the creature had grabbed him. But just a touch was enough to tell that this thing was… _powerful._

Normally he wouldn’t back down from a fight - Madara loved the rush of magical combat, loved being challenged and pushed to the brink, but this was an unknown entity of unknown talent, so he needed to be _cautious._ He didn't know where Hashirama was so he couldn't afford to be reckless-

“Hey now! There's no need to fight! Oh - Madara! I thought that was you.”

Hashirama peeked his head around from behind the creature, blinking in surprise, before he broke out into a grin and clapped the creature on the back. “See, I told you it was nothing to worry about!”

Madara shifted, eyes narrowing on his friend, his fire shimmering beneath the surface of his skin as he reigned his magic back in. Hashirama sounded… entirely unconcerned. And acted familiar with the creature.

“You know the mage?” The creature didn’t take its eyes off Madara, watching with a wariness that mirrored his own. “You were followed. You’ve gotten careless, brother.”

Madara twitched. _Brother?_

Hashirama just laughed, patted the creature’s cloaked shoulder, and strode past him without a care in the world. The light from the broken windows caught his form, showing him to be uninjured and whole, and unbidden, Madara let out a breath. “Oh I know he didn’t follow me! He must have simply tracked me down. Have you been stealing strands of my hair when I haven’t been looking, Madara?”

Madara pursed his lips and refrained from rolling his eyes. That would mean diverting more attention from the creature, who was still a threat, even if Hashirama was shown to be in good health. “You shed like a cat. It wasn’t that difficult, you oaf.”

Hashirama laughed - and stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the creature and forcing Madara to look up at him. He did so with a scowl, and allowed his magic to fade back down into dormancy. He crossed his arms over his chest, surreptitiously burrowing down into his cloak, and huffed, “You’ve been gone too long. The others apparently cannot run the place without you being there to hold their hands and _begged_ me to come and fetch you. _Please_ do not keep them waiting any longer.”

Again, the man just laughed and - of all indignanties, _ruffled his hair_. Madara spluttered and knocked his hand away, scowl darkening. “This isn’t a joke, Hashirama! You’re the Headmaster, you can’t just up and leave without any warning! You have a school to run!  Obligations to fulfill!”

“Ah.” Hashirama gave a sheepish smile and scratched his cheek. At some point he’d grown a small pair of antlers during his absence - damn nature witches and their _oddities._ Their magic always left them with weird side effects. “I apologise, I truly didn’t think I would be gone for too long. I just lost track of time.”

“You didn’t-” Madara sucked in a harsh breath, and exploded. “You have been gone for two months you utter incompetent fool! It took me nearly two weeks to reach here, and I didn’t know if you were alive or dead! You gave no warning, told no one where you were going, and you just - _you just lost track of time?!”_

Hashirama’s smile dropped and he wilted, lips pulling into a pout. “Ah… when you put it like that, I suppose it was a little careless of me…”  
  
“A little careless?!” Madara’s voice rang out through the throne room at an octave much higher than his regular voice. “More than a little careless you _idiot!_ Moron, asshole, inconsiderate piece of-”

“Do not be too harsh on my brother.”

Madara’s jaw clicked shut and his eyes snapped to the creature as it stepped into view. Its face was a cold, emotionless mask. “He merely wished to spend time with me. Had I _known_ he had obligations I would not have entertained him for as long as I have.”

Those cold red eyes bore into Hashirama, causing him to wilt even more. In a small voice, he pleaded, “Come on Tobirama, it’s been too long since my last visit. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

The creature - apparently called Tobirama? - snorted inelegantly, and then just - turned around, showing its back to them as it made its way back to the throne room. “Ridiculous. You can go now, Hashirama. Go back to your school and leave me in peace.”

It disappeared back behind the throne, and Hashirama slumped and let out a sigh. “Oh gods. He’s mad at me now.”

Madara shifted a little, trying not to betray his unease and confusion. “Mad at you?”

Hashirama rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the throne with darkened eyes. “I may have omitted my… current occupation during our talks. I was worried that if I told him, he…”

He trailed off and shook his head, and then turned to Madara with a small smile. “Would you wait for me outside? I’d like to say goodbye. It’s not a good idea to leave things on bad terms.”

Madara frowned and gave a small nod. He did not… know what that creature - Tobirama - was to Hashirama, but Hashirama was obviously at ease around it. Him? He called Hashirama ‘brother’...

Pursuing his lips, Madara turned to make his way back through the empty castle. The thought of leaving Hashirama alone with the creature who was… most certainly not normal rubbed him the wrong way, but he would listen to his friend. And he supposed Hashirama could take care of himself...

He’d never seen the results of someone getting lost in and consumed by their magic. Not in person. He had only ever read of it in old texts. These days people had rules and safety precautions drilled into them to prevent such a thing from happening. He had a feeling that… perhaps _that_ was what had happened to this ‘Tobirama’. He… reeked of death.

His face still felt cold from where the creature had grabbed him. Even his fire didn’t chase away the chill.

Hashirama had a lot of explaining to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Hashirama met him outside almost half an hour later, much to Madara’s impatient disgust. He didn’t even give the witch a chance to say anything before he grabbed onto a broad shoulder and fire flashed them away from that cold, terrible hellscape.

Travelling over such a long distance took a hell of a lot of magic, but Madara was determined to be somewhere comfortable and safe and, more importantly, _warm._

Hashirama didn't appreciate the sudden slip through space and time, if the way he groaned and collapsed into the nearest chair had anything to say about it. Madara’s magical signature was keyed into the wards of the school, allowing him to come and go via magical means as he pleased, and he’d decided on Hashirama’s office as their destination.

“That wasn’t really necessary.” Hashirama finally whined from his chair - not the chair at his desk, but one of the ones that sat before it. Madara decided to claim the desk chair for his own since Hashirama wasn’t, and he began to gather up the papers - just dumped there by the other members of staff - into a neater pile, listening to his complaints with half an ear. “You know I hate it when you do that, it always feels like you’re going to set me on fire.”

“It was most certainly necessary.” Madara huffed and glowered at him. “We were not going to _walk_ back, not after I was already on the road for two damn weeks.”

Hashirama peeked open an eye and pouted. “You don’t even look drained. Travelling such a large distance would have drained any regular mage. You Uchiha and your reserves are honestly quite astounding.”

“Flattery will not save you from my wrath.” Madara growled and shoved the papers towards him. “Here - these are all the things you’ve missed. Proposals and queries from the other staff members, as well as details that have so far been decided for the upcoming Spring Equinox festival. They’ve been growing quite antsy since the date is crawling ever closer, and nothing has yet to be decided. Honestly Hashirama, what were you thinking?”

He didn’t answer beyond a hum as he picked up the pile and began flicking through the pages. “That’s right… The festival’s important. Perhaps I should have delayed my visit to Tobirama…”

Madara narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the desk. “Your ‘brother’. You’ve never mentioned him before.”  
  
Hashirama’s eyes flickered up to meet Madara’s for a moment, before he looked away. “Yes. Well. He likes his privacy, so it works for him if I don’t really mention him much.”

Madara let out a soft scoff and leaned back in the chair, watching Hashirama with dark eyes. For all the man was a social butterfly and was ridiculously easy to get along with, Madara came to realise long ago that he never truly divulged information about himself. About his past. His _family_. Not that Madara could judge him for that, because Madara had his fair share of secrets too, but there was no doubt that Hashirama knew more about Madara, than Madara knew of him.

It never really sat well with him, this… inequality. And it felt even worse now.

After a few moments of silence - where Hashirama continued to look through the papers, and Madara watched him with growing annoyance - the Uchiha finally blurted out, “He’s not normal. Not human. Not really. What happened?”

Immediately he wanted to take the words back, because the look Hashirama gave him made him suddenly feel very small. It was a guarded look. Dark and searching - trying to determine whether or not Madara was… trustworthy.

Then Hashirama gave a small, silly smile, and shrugged. “He’s going through some things. It’s nothing to worry about.”

And just like that, it was made very clear to Madara that Hashirama did not want to speak on the subject, and would not discuss it further. Because…

Because Hashirama didn’t trust him.

Madara swallowed and looked down at the desk, face carefully blank. It was… understandable. Madara could not blame him for that. Though they were friends, that did not mean they were obligated to talk of personal, private matters. And Uchiha were not known for their coolheadedness - especially in the face of dangerous matters.

And that was what this Tobirama was. A dangerous matter. Madara _knew_ it.

Perhaps he should stop prying, but… this was honestly the most interesting turn of events that had happened in a while. A part of him was… maybe not _upset_ by Hashirama’s distrust, but certainly he was bothered. And looking into it wouldn't endear him to Hashirama or help with the trust issue, but Madara was curious.

Curiosity tended to get him into trouble. That never really stopped him, though.

Coming to a decision, Madara broke the silence that had settled between them with a huff. “Fine then, don't tell me. But next time you decide to go for a ‘visit’, bloody well _tell_ someone. I don't want to make a habit out of tracking you down, alright?”

Hashirama seemed to startle at his words. He stared at Madara with wide eyes, and then after a moment he seemed to soften. He smiled - not that silly one from before, but one that radiated warmth. A smile that only Hashirama seemed to be able to give.

It made Madara feel guilty, because he was now most definitely going to be sneaking around behind Hashirama’s back. But well… he'd made his decision. Madara didn't make a habit out of going back on his word.

Ah well. Hashirama would forgive him. Hopefully.

“I'll remember that.” Hashirama stood and stretched. “I promise. Gods, I'm tired. Are you tired? It's probably time to retire for the evening-”

“No.” Madara pushed the chair away from the desk and stood as well. “No, don't even think about it. You have two months worth of backlog to go through, and you are _going_ to get started now.”

Hashirama pulled a face, but Madara held firm - he stepped aside and held the chair out for the headmaster to take a seat, and Hashirama wilted and obediently slumped over. “You're terrible.”

“ _You're_ terrible.” Madara sniped back. “Now get to work. _I'm_ going to retire for the evening.”

Hashirama let out a despairing noise, but Madara ignored him as he made his way out of the office.

He had some reading to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright here's chapter 2! Ah I really hope that my explanation of magical corruption is understandable, I feel like it came out as a jumbled mess;;; lemme know if it made sense or not ahhh
> 
> But yes, I hope you enjoy this chapter! And the first properly done art for it lol

Madara was quite proud of his own personal library. When he had started this job, he'd brought a mass of texts from the Uchiha library with him, much too many an elder's disgust, and Madara was entirely unrepentant because gods knew what trouble the rest of the clan would get into if such dangerous texts had remained without his supervision. He may have also pinched some from the school’s library - it was fine, so long as Mito never found out.

It was kept under tight lock and key. And warded to boot. So it was a surprise to see the large room already occupied when Madara stepped inside later that evening.

“What-” He began in a soft, dangerous voice. “Do you brats think you're doing here?”

The man stiffed, and the boy sitting on his shoulders yelped and dropped a large book to the floor. It was only Kagami's quick reflexes that prevented it from actually hitting the ground, catching it with a tendril of magic - and he turned to face Madata, a guilty look on his face.

Obito, clutching Kagami's curls in a white knuckled grip, pouted. “Oh boo. The old man's back.”

Madara's eyebrow twitched. Kagami gave a nervous laugh; he pinched Obito's leg in reprimand, ignored his yelp of protest, and said, “Ah, apologies Lord Madara. I, ah, didn't realise you'd be back so soon.”

Madara scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Kagami. You know you're not allowed in here without my supervision. Let alone with a _child_ . Just _what_ in the seven hells are you thinking?”

“Er-” Kagami shifted a little to the side, where another door - a side entrance that was connected to Madara's rooms, and probably where Kagami had entered from since he had access - was set in the wall. “Well, you see Lord Madara, that’s a funny story - Go, go now!”

Madara gave a start, and from one of the nearby isles several blurs darted to the door. Madara recognised a head of white and black - had a moment for his ire to increase - and then Kagami was out the door as well with a slightly hysterical laugh, Obito's giggling mingled in with it.

Madara stared at the gaping door for a few moments, his eye twitching.

That had been Jiraiya and Orochimaru. Some of the youngest members of staff. Just - what the hell had Kagami even been doing? He _knew_ not to come in here, especially with _outsiders._

That boy had some explaining to do.

Incensed, Madara made his way through the door into his personal quarters, made sure the bloody brats weren't lingering anywhere, and reset the wards - adjusting it so that this time, _everyone_ was kept out.

What utter nonsense was going through Kagami's mind, honestly…

He decided to deal with the brats at a later point in time - it would do them good, to wait in fear of retribution. Madara shuffled to the kitchen to make himself some tea in preparation for a long night of research. He was tired, and would likely benefit from actually sleeping, but he was restless. This ‘Tobirama’ lingered in the forefront of Madara's mind, and his curiosity wouldn't allow it to fade until it had been sated.

Tea now in hand, dressed down to his more comfortable underclothes, Madara slipped back into the library and wondered just where to start.

 

* * *

 

 

It turned out that there wasn’t much recorded history on Snow Country at all. At least, his collection didn’t have much on it. The small amount of information he _did_ have on it was basic. It was practically a wasteland, steeped in superstition that prevented people from settling down for too long. The sun was never visible for long, nothing could grow, and those who stayed for more than a few months at a time grew ill. The texts stated a curse had been set upon the land, but Madara dismissed that nonsense and chalked it up to lack of proper nutrition readily available to those who tried and failed to stay. Of course nothing would grow in a land where it snowed most of the time and the sun never shone through the clouds.

People can be so stupidly superstitious.

The only _interesting_ tidbit of information he managed to find was of an old fairytale from a few hundred years back. It was written in a runic language that Madara wasn't very well versed in - old and outdated as it was, and it took awhile for him to translate - Madara thought that he'd finally come across something that could help.

But in the end it was just a short, bland story about a king going off on journey to commune with gods to help bring wealth and comfort to his people, and of how he was gone for such a long time that he came back to a place of decay and ruin.

Madara huffed in irritation. That didn't tell him _anything_. Many countries had tales like that.

Feeling like he had exhausted what he had on Snow Country, Madara changed tactics and switched to magical theory and history. Utterly dry and boring with too many technical terms that just made it a pain to read, Madara sloughed through too many books before he found what he was interested in.

Magical corruption. Soul taint. Magic sickness. There were many names to call it, there having been multiple cases hundreds of years back before proper safety precautions were implemented. It was often something that affected those born with greater than average magical reserves, and was a great basis in a lot of ‘Dark Lord’ risings.

Madara's lip curled. Dark Lords. Mages who fell and then blamed all of the death and destruction they caused on their own magic.

Fools, the lot of them.

Magic was neither inherently good or evil. If one’s actions, after delving in too deep resulted in death and destruction, then that was a reflection of their own character. It wasn't that Madara believed that falling to one's own magic made you weak. He knew that it was a temptation that was almost too hard to resist - in his younger days, he had often fancied the thought of allowing his own fire to consume him, just to feel the rush, to see what happened. But he had too many obligations, to his family and his clan, and now his school to even entertain such nonsense.

Dark Lords _sought_ to fall simply because they wanted power and glory. They would bite off more than they could chew, thinking they could control the fall. When they ultimately failed, because they _always_ did, they tried to justify their actions and blame it on their magic. _It was too tempting_ , they would say. _I couldn’t resist. It promised such power!_

Only a truly weak willed mage would become a Dark Lord.

_Fire whispered and tickled his fingers, beckoning him to join and play. The gaping maw within him spewed forth more and more and he was so hot and so tired he wished he could just -_

He sneered and shook the memory from his mind. Fucking Dark Lords.

Dark Lords were only a fraction of those who had fallen into magical corruption. They tended to appear in times of peace, when there was little conflict throughout the world. They were few and far between. However… a great number of those that fell, not for power or glory, were usually under a great deal of pressure. Wars were something that never truly ceased, and those users with greater magical reserves were often used as soldiers given the most crucial of tasks. Desperation, the need for more power was a driving force for those mages, and in the aftermath they were generally deemed too dangerous to keep alive. So they were disposed of, in any way they could be.

What happened to those who fell into their own magic and became corrupted varied. Their mental state was nearly always affected, and the mage became erratic. Mad. Sometimes their physical forms changed to reflect their current state, though that usually depended on the nature of their magic. There was an account of a nature mage who turned into a tree and never turned back, and that had Madara pausing and thinking of Hashirama.

The idiot better not try anything like that.

Along with the physical and mental changes came a severe magical boost. The bodies limits were stripped away and the magic they held becomes a wild thing, to the point where it was hard to tell if it was the user in control, or the magic itself. Regardless of what happened after - whether they became a Dark Lord, a mindless monster, or _somehow_ managed to keep their sanity intact, the outcome was the one common factor they all held.

Death. Those who were consumed by their own magic were doomed to an early death. Their bodies just couldn’t handle the strain for too long before it gave out.

With a sigh, Madara closed the book. In the end, he still wasn’t sure about what was wrong with this Tobirama. It could be magical corruption. It could just be that he was a spirit, maybe. A demon. The air he carried about him certainly felt dark enough.

If only Hashirama trusted him enough to tell him...

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, the research gave him no clear answers, and Madara realised that if he wanted those answers then he would need to do more than simply read up on the few leads he had.

He’d need to go and observe the creature in person.

Just leaving the school without notice was out of the question. He had classes to teach, and the upcoming Spring Equinox to deal with. Unlike Hashirama, Madara took his job _seriously_.

He could go on an upcoming weekend - he knew the way to castle, could fireflash there, so that would majorly cut down travel time. But it would be at the risk of straining his reserves, teleporting there and back would leave him near exhaustion. So perhaps he could fireflash part way and walk the rest? It would take more time, but leave him less tired…

Then there was the fact that he highly doubted Tobirama would appreciate Madara just - turning up out of nowhere and bombarding him with questions. While Madara didn’t know what Tobirama was capable of, going in there as he was - a possible threat - would likely result in a fight. And though Madara was an extremely capable mage, and he did love a good fight, it was simply stupid to go in without knowing the extent of Tobirama’s capabilities. Particularly if he really was suffering from Magic Corruption. Or was a spirit or demon.

Regardless, it would be unwise to show up as he was. He had a way around that, though he wasn’t too keen on being stuck in that form for more than a few hours at a time, but -

He would deal.

The Uchiha amulet heated a little underneath his robes, as if sensing his intent, and Madara grumbled about ‘bloody sentient magical artefacts’ as he stomped through the halls of the school - looking for two people in particular.

Kagami was easy - even though the younger man was clearly trying to avoid him in an attempt to escape Madara’s ire from the night before. As much as Madara would love to lecture him for what he did, that could come later.

He had something else in mind.

“You.” He said when he found Kagami in the communal kitchen, trying to get the coffee machine to work. “You’re going to do something for me.”  
  
Kagami peeked over his shoulder, eyes wide and a little fearful - something Madara relished. “Y… Yes, Lord Madara?”  
  
It was hard to contain the smirk, but Madara managed quite well. He crossed his arms over his chest, making his expression stern, and said, “This coming weekend I’m going away on business. On the off chance that I don’t make it back in time for classes, you are to temporarily take over my Pyromancy class.”

Kagami blinked, taken aback. His mouth opened for a few seconds, before closing, and he frowned. “I - that’s all?”

Madara smiled. He took great joy in the way Kagami paled at the sight. “Yes. That is all. You can find my lesson plans in my desk. I’m sure you’ll be able to find your way around the wards, yes? You’re quite good at that.”  
  
Kagami spluttered, and Madara left him without waiting for a coherent response. His next step was finding someone to cover his Evocation and Defense class - and he had just the person in mind.

Tracking down Orochimaru was much, _much_ more difficult than locating Kagami had been. That might have been because the snake like man was holed up deep within the school’s forbidden archives, and when Madara found him, he was curled up on the floor practically walled in by stacks of books and scrolls.

He didn’t even look up at the sound of Madara’s footsteps when he said, “I assure you it was all Kagami’s fault. Jiraiya merely dragged me along and it was simply pointless to protest.”

Madara snorted and came to a stop before the seated man, peering down at him over the stacks of books. Orochimaru was flicking through a thick tome, bloodshot eyes darting over the pages in search of something. A research binge, huh? Madara could relate.

“This has nothing to do with that.” He said after a moment. “Though, I can’t help but think you’re lying to me. You’ve been wanting to get a look at my collection for a while, haven’t you?”

Orochimaru looked up at that, golden eyes narrowed. He hummed. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. What can I do for you, Madara?”

Madara smirked. “I would like to ask a favour of you. In return, I will grant you a day of unrestricted access to my collection for every day you cover my Evocation and Defense class when I am gone.”

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed further. The younger man was probably the next best option to teach Evocation and defense after him, though he was much more gifted with Transmutation. Thankfully their classes didn’t overlap, making Orochimaru the perfect choice.

And Madara was confident that he wouldn’t turn down his offer.

Orochimaru stared at him, considering. Likely curious as to why Madara was going to be gone. But he wouldn’t ask, because he knew Madara wouldn’t tell. But Madara knew - Orochimaru really, _really_ wanted to get a proper look at his personal library, and to get permission to do so was much more preferable to sneaking around.

Orochimaru’s pressed into a thin line. “I am not allowed to take any books out of the room?”  
  
Madara shook his head. “No. But you can stay in the room and use my quarters as you desire, so long as you don’t make a mess. Is that acceptable?”

Orochimaru tilted his head, further considering it, and after a moment he nodded. “Deal. What days am I to cover your class?”

Madara grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

The weekend couldn’t have come soon enough. The moment his friday classes ended for the day and the students filtered out of the room, Madara locked up, retreated to his quarters, and began to prepare to travel.

He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to eat next, so he stuffed himself with whatever leftovers that hadn’t gone bad in the fridge, and placed a few non perishables into a rucksack. Though he likely wasn’t going to shift back into his current form while he was gone for too long, he pulled on a warmer set of robes and his travel cloak just in case, and after making sure he had everything he needed, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

The strain on his magic as he fire flashed a few miles from the castle was instant. He was able to keep to his feet, only felt a headrush, and he would have immediately loved a nap because the biting wave of cold that washed over him was _instant_. He resisted the urge to teleport back to the school and curl up in bed. He had a job to do, self appointed as it was, and he wanted to sate his curiosity damn it.

The amulet under his clothes began to grow warm once again, and Madara closed a hand around it, gripping it tight. With a deep breath, he pulled on the magic imbued within, and felt his body shift and creak.

 

He always hated this feeling. Like his body was being pulled and shoved and stretched into a tube that no human should logically be able to fit through. He bore it though, shivering as warmth filled his body, and when he opened his eyes his perception of the world had shifted.

Everything was brighter than before. Clearer. Cool wind slid over his form as he stood and looked down at his feet - now talons - as they sank into the snow. Which was beginning to melt all around him.

He didn’t feel the cold like this. As a being of living fire, he wasn’t sure it was possible to get cold. He wondered, if Tobirama was to touch him like this, if he could sap the warmth from him as easily as he had before.

Well. He would maybe find out, in time.

He stretched out his wings, fanning the feathers, and beat the air a few times, getting used to the movement. It had years since he’d taken this form, never having the need for it recently, but now it came in handy. Firebirds weren’t exactly _common_ , especially in an area like this, but they weren’t an impossibility, so hopefully Tobirama would simply see this as a rare, odd occasion and wouldn’t immediately suspect that something was up.

He leapt to the air, his stomach dropping beneath him, and took wing towards the direction of the castle.

Flying cut the travel time down much more than he’d anticipated.He arrived in under an hour. He felt tired, unused to flying after so long, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It was close to sundown, and it looked like a storm was rolling in on the horizon - so a bird coming to roost in an abandoned castle for the night to take shelter from a storm was a logical decision to come to.

The castle was a beacon to his eyes. Madara realised instantly that the crumbled exterior was merely a false image. An illusion. There were no falling towers and turrets - the castle stood tall and undamaged, almost majestic with the setting sun at its back. The intact interior made a lot more sense now.

He could see the magic soaking the air around it. Wards. He couldn’t quite determine what they were for, but since he had been able to enter before without alerting Tobirama, he would assume they weren’t to keep people out.

That caused something to whisper in the back of Madara’s mind. And that whisper said that it was to keep things _in_ , and not out.

Well. That was another thing he would need to discover for himself.

There was no sign of the creature dwelling within, and Madara wasn’t sure if that reassured him or not. Of course he wouldn’t catch sight of the creature from the outside - what reason would he have to even _be_ outside?

A shimmer of colour caught his eye, and Madara slowly began to circle down. The glass windows that decorated the ceiling of the throne room were remarkably done - quite beautiful in fact, depicting all manner of magical creatures and runic symbols. He thought that maybe they told a story, but after a few minutes of inspection he couldn’t discern what it could be. The symbols were mostly unfamiliar, but he did partially recognise some from the old books he’d raked through days ago.

That told him that this place was old. Possibly centuries old.

He landed on a small ledge by the glass, grateful for a short break. Through the window he could see the throne room below, and it was as empty as it had been the first time around. He couldn’t see beyond the crumbled throne from where he was, and after a moment he plodded along the ledge in an attempt to get a better look.

And then he saw it. A flicker of movement. A figured stepped around the throne, pale face lifted to the glass windows.

Madara froze. Cold red eyes held him in place.

Tobirama knew he was there. Had the words  _actually_ detected his presence? Than why hadn't they the first time around-?

Stiffly, Madara ruffled his feathers. Firebirds held more intelligence than an average, non magical bird, but it was unlikely that they would be wary of an unknown creature. Even if said creature reeked of darkness and death.

Firebirds were only a step down from a phoenix after all. It took a lot to take one down permanently. They were known to be brave, foolhardy creatures.

So it would be wise to appear unconcerned, even if all he wanted to do was disappear and go far, far away as those eyes continued to stare him down. Why was he doing this again?

Oh yes. His damn curiosity.

He allowed himself to remain there for a few moments, before he once again took to the air. He needed to look like he was trying to find a place to settle down. The towers looked to have some covered archways, so he slowly circled around them to find a perfect opening.

There was another flash of colour and movement that drew Madara’s eye. A door opened atop one of the defensive walls walkways, the creak rending loudly through the air.

Out of the doorway came Tobirama, his eyes fixated on the sky. It took a few seconds for the creature to spot him, and once again Madara felt a chill. Those eyes didn’t move from Madara’s form at all as he moved, and the mage wondered if he truly was a unique sight.

Perhaps Tobirama didn’t get many visitors, human or animal.

The creature didn’t do anything that could be considered threatening. The only movement from him came when he moved closer to the parapet, a clawed hand resting on the stone edge as he simply watched Madara fly.

Out of curiosity, Madara drifted closer.

There was an odd look to Tobirama’s face. He’d seen the creature snarling, but that was only for a few seconds before his expression had gone blank and lifeless. Now though, it took a while for Madara to put a name to the emotion he saw.

Wonder.

It was oddly humanizing.

That expression was what had Madara flying even closer. Surely if the creature wore that expression then it meant no harm. Perhaps he could risk closing some of the distance between them.

Before Madara truly realised what he was doing, he landed on the parapet. There were a great many metres between he and the creature, so if he made a move that indicated any sort of attack then Madara would have time to take wing. But with the way Tobirama just kept staring at him, Madara began to think that maybe… he really wouldn’t attack.

He thought that, just maybe, Tobirama was curious.

Madara fluffed out his feathers and ruffled his wings, returning Tobirama’s stare with his own. The creature hadn’t move, though it looked like his eyes had widened ever so slightly.

They continued to look at each other for one long minute, before slowly, Tobirama began to move. Madara tensed, preparing to take flight, but something held him still - a curiosity, the want to see just _what_ Tobirama was going to do. The creature was moving slowly, as if not wanting to scare Madara off, and the distance between them diminished by the second.

Still, Madara didn’t move. The curiosity to see where this went grew.

Finally, Tobirama stopped, only a few feet of distance between them. The wonder hadn’t faded from his face. He held Madara’s eye for a few more seconds, before he suddenly dipped into a low bow. “It is an honor to meet you, spirit of sky and fire. I welcome you, and gladly offer you shelter from the elements should you need it.”

Madara’s feathers fluffed in surprise. That was… unexpected.

Then Tobirama reached out, and all Madara saw was that clawed hand coming towards him - he remembered the biting cold that had filled him at its touch - and it startled him enough that he took to the air once more, diving off the side of the parapet.

He was able to see Tobirama’s face fall, his expression shutter into something cold and lifeless once more, before he was out of sight.

Something tugged at Madara’s heart. The creature had been… _respectful._ He knew Madara was more intelligent than a regular animal, and had welcomed him to take shelter in his home. He’d looked at Madara with wonder, as if the very sight of him was something precious. And when he’d flown away, that had been genuine disappointment.

Maybe… Maybe Tobirama really was lonely.

Coming to a decision, Madara circled around the castle once more before he zeroed in on where Tobirama still stood. The creature was like a statue, staring out at the frozen wasteland with distant eyes, and it was only with a little hesitation that Madara landed back on the parapet.

He let out a soft trill.

Tobirama’s eyes snapped to him, and they widened with surprise. He remained still for a moment, before he visibly hesitated, and slowly - much slower than before - stretched out a hand.

Madara held himself very still, watching as that hand got closer and closer, and braced himself. The creature had no reason to harm him. Had made no indication that he would. He had to trust in that instinct, had to-

One of those bone-like fingers ever so gently stroked the feathers of Madara’s breast. Madara expected the cold, braced for it, but -

There was nothing. Just the sensation of something brushing against his feathers.

It felt… nice.

The creature wasn’t going to attack. He just… just wanted to pet him.

This… this wasn’t so bad. Perhaps things were actually going to be alright.

Madara really hoped he wasn’t going to regret this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we have some Necromancer and Firebird bonding lol
> 
> Lemme know what y'all think <3

**Author's Note:**

> Here are Madara and Tobirama's designs - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/182955039911/i-got-the-urge-to-do-actual-refs-for-tobirama-and
> 
> Here are the first sketches I ever did of them - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/181685660001/last-night-i-dreamed-up-a-magic-au-with-a
> 
> And here's the tag where I just talk about the AU as well as some dumb sketches lol - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/tagged/magic%20au


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